


Autopilot

by ateulysses



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Other, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 15:30:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15222209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ateulysses/pseuds/ateulysses
Summary: Everyday it was "Im sorry, I was on autopilot." Or "shit, I forgot, autopilot yknow?"Autopilot also found its way onto everyones words-I-hate list. Especially Peter's.





	Autopilot

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaaaa, first of all. This is my first fic, so constructive criticism???? Cause I do want to actually write and I neeeeeed tips and stuffff. Anyway, I was reading old Creepypastas on the wikia and uhhhh,,,, got inspired by the Autopilot creepypasta so yeah : >> . AlSO this is unedited because im lazy and tired

Autopilot. A noun Tony Stark used much too often. It would work its way into every one of his excuses. Forgetting to pick Peter up from school. Building something in a different order than the blueprint would show. Going against the plan the team would map out before battle. Forgetting in general. 

Everyday it was "Im sorry, I was on autopilot." Or "shit, I forgot, autopilot yknow?" 

Autopilot also found its way onto everyones words-I-hate list. Especially Peter's. 

But Tony didnt notice his problem, better yet, his hate for the word aswell until after the incident. What was the incident, you ask? Well.... 

Tony had a routine, every day. Even though his days were as different as every Playboy Genius Billionaire Philanthropist's days were. His routine never changed, wake up, take a shower, get dressed, down a cup of coffee, make another, say bye to Peter(or take him, depended what day it was.), spend hours in the lab, pick Peter up, and the rest he just seemed to go about in total reckless abandon. 

This routine almost NEVER changed, which what caused Tony to start using autopilot to excuse every thing he got wrong. The routine burned into his mind, so familiar, so damn familiar. Its like walking and breathing and digesting. You dont have to tell your body to move your feet, or to inhale and exhale. You just go about doing it. And thats what the routine was to him, as normal as walking and breathing. 

Autopilot engaged. 

The beginning of the end started when Tony woke up to find his phone at a extremely low percentage. Had he fallen asleep before putting it on charge? Wasnt Friday supposed to remind him of these things? He brushed it off, putting it on charge before he stepped into the bathroom to shower. 

Autopilot engaged. 

After showering and dressing, he proceeded downstairs. As he started the expensive coffee maker, placing a mug in, he heard the awkward shuffling of feet coming down the stairs. He spun around to greet his son, in a hurry for something he assumed was going to happen today at school. Exchanging hellos and goodbyes, Tony watched the boy rush into the elevator before going back to his coffee. 

Autopilot engaged. 

He made his way to the lab, unaware of the lack of his phone, which wouldnt matter, Friday would alert Tony of a call if he recieved one. He wasnt much worried. He began work on an old arc reactor he had used, finding nothing else in his interest. He fiddled with the outside buildings that circled the actual reactor, taking it apart would not be a good idea. Even though he wasnt using it anymore. 

Autopilot engaged. 

Time had passed as he fiddled with the stupid little reactor, constantly becoming fustrated with the object he barely looked at. "Friday, time." Tony spoke, gaze never leaving the piece of metal and unknown matter. "It's 5:16, sir." Friday responded. Tony looked up. 5:16, he worked that long? Wait, Peter's school ends at 3:30. Was he supposed to pick him up today? Fuck. 

Dont worry, this is harmless. Nothing too bad, maybe just an angry Peter Parker. 

"Friday, phone May Parker" Tony gazed over to where Peter would occasionally work. Hoping the kid got home alright.  
"Certainly." The AI responded, Tony sat in silence for a few seconds, staring down at the stupid arc reactor once again before Friday woke him from his seconds of spacing out. "May Parker is on the line," a moment of silence followed before "Tony!" May spoke in a frantic voice. "Hey I uh- woah, are you alright?" Tony registered the voice. "Tony, is Peter with you???" He grew worried from May's tone and the fact that Peter was not with him. "No? Is he not with you?" 

"Peter didnt come home after school today." 

Autopilot disengaged 

 

 

Tony found it hard to think over his feeling of guilt and unease during this ceremony. Mr. Meetings and Responsibility, could take on the biggest meeting and get together, but this one had him wanting to run and hide in his car. 

Yes he felt guilty. He beat himself up about it aswell. Because Peter hated walking home, he knew it all too well. Peter was frightened of being alone. Even if it only took him 15 minutes to get to his aunts small apartment from his high school. And even if Tony tried to convince himself that Peter wasnt scared that day, it never succeeded. 

Though guilt couldnt describe the major feeling he held on his shoulders, that he refused to show to anyone, though it wouldnt make a difference to any of the people here. And he would be lying if he said he wasnt crying throughout the whole thing. 

Autopilot engaged. 

An escape, he finally was rewarded. Was it a reward? Autopilot only lasted so long.  
Time skipped to the end of the ceremony. The only thing Tony remembered before everyone actually left to the tower, was Natasha. Her comforting hand on his shoulder. "Go talk to him," she spoke before removing her hand and joining the rest of the team. Leaving Tony and Peter alone, in silence, and grief. 

Tony stepped closer, and acknowledged the painfully quiet sounds of the gravel and dirt under his shoes. His fingers lingered over the cement gravestone. 

"Im so sorry, Peter....... I was on autopilot."


End file.
